


Hurt

by justthehiddles



Category: Crimson Peak (2015)
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Forbidden Love, Loss of Virginity, No explicit incest, Oral Sex, Poisoning, Sex, Vaginal Sex, allusions to incest, multiple character deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:28:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24531565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justthehiddles/pseuds/justthehiddles
Summary: Clara never thought her life would be that exciting.  That was until Sir Thomas Sharpe appeared in her father’s office and set her life on a different path.
Relationships: Lucille Sharpe/Thomas Sharpe, Thomas Sharpe/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	1. Part !

Clara couldn’t wait for fall. Summers were so oppressive in Boston. Between the layers of undergarments and underskirts and the unending humidity, it was enough to drive a person mad. But that didn’t stop her from heading in the office of the Boston Daily Spy to hear the latest news every morning.

“Morning, miss.” The receptionist greeted Clara with a smile.

“Morning, Mrs. Hughes.” you responded to the elderly woman. “Tell me, is my father available?”

“Not right now, Miss Clara. He is in a meeting but it should get done in about fifteen minutes.

“I’ll wait.”

Mrs. Hughes let her back behind the wooden railing to where the reporters worked. Clara wandered from desk to desk, picking up snippets of stories here and there. All the reporters were used to her wandering about their desks.

“Clara!” a tenor voice echoed across the bullpen.

She glanced up at the copy she was reading about a string of killings in Lowell to see Jonathan Harper making his way towards her. His sandy blond disheveled as though he ran his fingers through it constantly. His clothes smudged with whatever chemicals he used to develop his pictures.

“Jonathan.” Clara’s voice softened at the sign of the young man. She realized he had taken a shine to her, and he always made his best efforts to impress either her or her father. Which often backfired. But he was sweet just the same.

“I didn’t know you would be here today.”

“I didn’t know either. But something told me I needed to come in today. It was the strangest notion.”

“That’s your gut instinct.” Jonathan offered.

“I prefer the term ‘women’s intuition’.”

“That sounds more palatable. Come.” He offered her his hand. She declined but still followed him to his desk. His smile slipped for a moment before affixing itself once again.

“These are my latest shots.” He offered prints. Clara plucked one from his hands, holding the photo along its edge.

“How did you get such a sharp image?”

“Turns out you can bribe a horse to stand still.” His hazel eyes sparkled as he gazed at Clara inspecting his photograph. The moment broke at the sound of her father’s voice.

“It’s an interesting proposition. Perhaps we can discuss it more this evening.”

“I would like that very much, Mr. Appleton.” a soft voice with a British accent answered.

“Bring that sister of yours.”

Clara moved to meet his father and the stranger from England.

“Clara!” Henry Appleton called out to his daughter. “Come meet Sir Thomas Sharpe!”

Clara’s skirts rustled as she hurried to find out more about this mysterious stranger. Thomas stood at least a half a head taller than her father. And Henry had at least thirty pounds on the younger man. Where Thomas was lean, Appleton was stout. Clara’s father could be described as a barrel of a man. His black hair long turned gray. In stark contrast to the raven locks of Thomas. And crystal blue eyes set against pale skin. Jonathan’s face fell as he noticed how Clara stared at Thomas.

“Papa?” Clara asked as she turned to face Thomas.

“Clara, this Sir Thomas Sharpe, Baronet.” Henry kissed the top of Clara’s head. Her hands flew up to smooth down her wine colored hair and then moved down to smooth the wrinkles in her dress as her nerves got the better of her.

“Pleasure, Sir Thomas Sharpe. Tell me, what have you done to bring such a smile to my father’s face?”

Thomas opened his mouth to answer before Appleton jumped.

“Thomas here is an inventor.” Clara’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “He has come to Boston looking for funding for his latest endeavor.”

“Your father is too kind, Ms. Appleton.” Thomas interjected. “I am simply running my family’s clay mining business. He makes me sound like Thomas Edison.”

All three laughed, but on the inside Clara’s stomach did somersaults. Sir Thomas Sharpe ignited something deep within her.

“And if I heard correctly, you have a sister?”

“Lucille. Who is waiting for me to meet her in the Commons.”

“Perhaps I may accompany you, Sir Thomas? I am headed that way to the Library.” Clara offered. She did not wish this encounter to end yet.

“I would like that. I am afraid I still get lost in your beautiful city.” Thomas looked down at Clara. His blue eyes sparkled as the skin crinkled around them when he smiled.

Henry clapped Thomas on the shoulder. “Then it is settled. Clara will show you to the Commons and you and your sister shall come to our house at 6 this evening for dinner. Clara can give you the address.”

She nodded. Thomas thanked her father before picking up his valise and offering his arm to Clara, which she gladly accepted.

As they moved from view, Jonathan stood by Henry.

“What do you think of the Baronet?” Henry asked, the smile fading from his face.

“He seems eager.”

Henry scowled. “In all manner of things.” He turned to face Jonathan. “Have one of the reporters see what they can find out about this Sir Thomas Sharpe.”

-

“How long are you planning to remain in Boston?” Clara questioned as they stepped out into the oppressive Boston heat.

“That depends entirely on whether I am to secure funding for my machine or if I melt in this humidity.” he chuckled.

“I imagine it is a change from the weather in England.”

“It is. Will I get to meet your mother this evening?” he asked. He wanted to know more about Clara.

“She died when I was nine.” She tucked her chin downward.

“Apologies. I didn’t know. My mother passed when I was twelve.”

“It would seem we have something in common.”

“Hopefully, the first of many commonalities.”

He clapped his hand over hers as she squeezed his arm. She glanced up and smiled. Thomas wondered how her lips would feel against his.

“And there is my sister.” He pointed with his gloved hand towards a large expanse of green grass.

A woman with raven hair clothed in a dark dress stood out amongst the women in pastels. She was a match to Thomas in both coloring and posture. Clara realized it was Lucille. She did not like her. Not one bit.

That initial feeling only grew as Lucille approached. Thomas released Clara’s hand to take Lucille’s and kissed her cheek. Before Lucille spoke a single word, Clara hated her.

“Who have brought along with you, Thomas?” Lucille inquired, pulling Thomas away from Clara’s grip.

“Where are my manners? Lucille, Clara Appleton. Clara, my sister, Lady Lucille Sharpe.”

Clara extended her hand in a friendly gesture, but she didn’t mean it. “Pleasure. I hope you are enjoying our fair city.”

Lucille matched Clara’s smile. “Delighted, although the heat.” Lucille fanned herself with her hand.

“Clara and I were just speaking about that.”

Lucille snapped a glance at her brother. “It seems the two of you have become fast friends.” Clara detected a hint of something. Malice? She lodged the moment away in her brain to analyze later.

“Your brother is so charming.” You reached across to take his hand and give a squeeze. “I can’t see how anyone wouldn’t want to be his friend.”

The two women locked eyes for a moment, and they exchanged something in that look. Thomas cleared his throat to break the tension.

“Lucille,” Thomas addressed his sister while never taking his eyes off Clara. “Clara’s father has invited us to dinner. To further discuss investing.”

Lucille’s face flashed for a moment and Clara fought the urge to smile. “How wonderful.”

“I hope so. Well, if you will excuse me, I am off to the library.” Clara gave the address to the home and said her goodbyes before heading off towards Copley Square.

Lucille and Thomas watched as she took off across the grass.

“I don’t like her, Thomas.” Lucille leaned against her brother.

“You are being ridiculous, Lucille. We are running out of time. Play nice.” Thomas retorted through tight lips.

“I’m always nice.”

Thomas didn’t respond.

-

Dinner went as expected with the gentlemen talking business while Lucille and Clara made polite conversation. Clara was much more interested in the business talk than anything Lucille had to say.

“Thomas.” Lucille interrupted. Clara glanced over to see Lucille leaned over the table.

Thomas stopped his conversation to turn to his sister. “Lucille, you’ve gone all red.”

“I’m not feeling very well, Thomas. I would like to retire to the hotel, if you don’t mind.” Lucille groaned as a sharp pain shot through her belly.

Thomas shot to standing. “Of course. Apologies.” His eyes lingered on Clara as he moved to help Lucille to standing.

“No need to apologize. I think I have heard enough about this venture. I will give you my answer in the next day or so.”

Thomas nodded. He helped Lucille to the foyer, placing her coat around her shoulders and walked her to the porch.

“I’ll just be a moment.” he whispered.

He returned inside to find Clara holding his coat.

“I wish you could stay.” Clara muttered. She offered the coat.

“I do as well.” Her fingers lingered along the lines of Thomas’s shoulders as she helped him into it. “Perhaps I could call on you tomorrow?”

“I would like that very much.” her voice soft.

“Until then.” Thomas threw a smile over his shoulder and left the house to meet Lucille outside.

The door clicked and Clara turned to find her father in the doorway to the dining room.

“You seem quite taken with him.”

“Papa,” Clara scoffed. “I was being polite.”

“Polite,” Henry continued as they made their way upstairs. “is how you are to young Mr. Harper. You are smitten with Sir Thomas Sharpe.”

“Is there anything wrong with that? I thought you wanted me to settle down and find a husband.”

“I do but with the right husband.”

“And Sir Thomas Sharpe is not the right husband?” Clara stopped on the stairs.

“There is something I don’t trust about him.” Henry responded. There were no secrets between them.

“Does that mean you won’t be investing?” Clara furrowed her brow. “After his impassioned plea?”

“That is exactly what that means.” Henry stopped at his bedroom door. “I will let him know in the morning.”

Clara leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. “At least sleep on it tonight before you make your decision.”

Henry pulled Clara into a hug. “Goodnight Clara.”

“Goodnight Papa.”

-

“Mr. Appleton!” Jonathan called when Henry came into the office.

“Jonathan, you are in early today.” Henry remarked. “I didn’t expect you for at least another hour.”

Jonathan huffed as he ran across the newspaper bullpen. “That project? Sir Thomas Sharpe? William found out some things you need to know.”

Henry grabbed Jonathan’s shoulder. “Let’s discuss this further in my office.”

-

Thomas waited until well after he expected Mr. Appleton to have left for the office.

“Miss?” Alice’s timid voice filtered in from the bedroom door. Clara laid on the bed, flipping through the book she picked up yesterday at the library. “Sir Thomas Sharpe here to see you?”

Clara jumped to her feet and fussed with her hair. “Thank you, Alice. Please see him into the drawing room.”

Alice smiled and left the room while Clara smoothed out her dress. She picked a deep blue dress today to highlight her hair and make her hazel eyes more blue. Like Thomas’s.

Thomas rose as Clara entered the room. She noticed his sharp intake of breath and in that moment realized she needed more blue dresses.

“Clara…”

“Sir Thomas…”

He smiled. “Just Thomas is fine.”

“Thomas.” A blush ran across Clara’s cheeks. “How is your sister?”

“She is resting back in the hotel. Thank you for asking after her.”

“I hope it is nothing serious.” Clara lied.

“I do as well. And because of that, I shall keep my visit brief.”

Clara reached for his hand and he took it, running his thumb across her knuckles. Shocks of electricity ran through her body with each movement.

“I wish you would stay.”

“As do I. I find myself wishing to linger in your company. You have enthralled me, Clara. Body and soul. You have invaded my thoughts both day and night. I fear, however, that I am alone in this feeling.” His eyes gazed downward.

“Would it ease your heart to know you are not alone?”

Thomas took her other hand to draw Clara near. “It would, dear Clara. Do you?”

Clara sighed. “I do, Thomas.” She traced his cheek with her finger. “You have consumed me.”

Thomas cupped her face. “Then let us consume each other.”

His nose nudged against hers and his lips ghosted against hers before he pressed them against hers, stealing her breath. His chest heaved against her bosom. Her hands twisted his curls at his neck. The whole kiss last only a few seconds but changed everything.

“Miss?” Alice hesitated at the entrance.

Thomas stepped back and licked his lips, but his hands remained at Clara’s waist, possessive and protective. Clara blushed at her tryst being discovered.

“Yes, Alice?”

“Miss Adams is here. She said the two of you were supposed to meet for lunch.”

Clara jumped and hitched her skirts, making her way to the front door. “Thank you, Alice. Excuse me.”

Thomas followed her, grabbing his hat from the foyer. “I should check on my sister.” He took Clara’s hand., kissing it. “I hope to see you again, Clara.”

“Thank you, Thomas.”

He tipped his hat to Clara and Rebecca Adams as he took his lead. Rebecca stood, mouth agape as Thomas walked away.

“Clara! Who was that?”

“Sir Thomas Sharpe, Baronet.”

“British aristocracy?! I thought you had eyes on Jonathan Harper.” Rebecca giggled.

“Jonathan helps me pass the time.”

“And Thomas?”

“Makes time stand still.”

“Good luck getting your father to agree to your marriage to a man who will take you across an ocean.”

Clara smiled as she grabbed her parasol and shut the door behind her. “I wouldn’t worry too much. I always get what I want in the end.”

-

Lucille was still in bed when Thomas returned. She had not slept well the night before.

“Are you still on the mend?” Thomas asked as he deposited his hat and coat into a nearby chair before kissing her cheek.

“Yes, but I will recover. I take from the trace of perfume, your visit was fruitful.”

Thomas smiled wistfully as his fingers ran along his lips, remembering the electricity of that kiss. “Very much so.”

Lucille narrowed her eyes at Thomas’s expression. “Don’t forget our plan, Thomas. You are losing focus.” she snapped.

“You’re right, darling.” He kissed her cheek again.

“Are you sure she is the one?”

Thomas stood and moved to pick up the letters on the nightstand. “Yes. Why do you ask?”

“There is something about her I don’t like. There are lots of lovely wealthy women in this city. Pick another.”

“To be fair, you never like them.” He tore open the letter on top. His smile disappeared. “And with her father declining to invest…” He flashed the letter in Lucille’s direction. “… it leaves us with little options, what with our departure at the end of the week. Are you up for it?”

“Always, brother.” Lucille whispered as she pulled him close.


	2. Part 2

Clara returned from her day out with Rebecca to find her father home early from the office. His face pinched in frustration.

“Papa?” Clara peeked her head into the study.

“Take a seat, Clara.” He gestured towards a leather chair. She took the seat.

“Is everything all right?” Her voice trembled.

“Everything is fine, child. But I don’t want to see Sir Thomas Sharpe ever again.”

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. “Why?”

“He is not who he seems to be.”

“He seems like a kind man. A gentle soul.”

“Appearances are deceiving, Clara. There are skeletons in everyone’s closet.”

Clara clenched her hands in fists, bolting to standing. “You are just jealous! You hate anyone who is smarter than you! Thomas is twice the man you are!”

Henry’s nostrils flared. “Watch your tone, child! I am still your father. And as long as I am alive, I forbid you to see him.”

“I hate you!” she screamed as she bolted from the room in tears.

Henry slumped in his chair and sighed. “This hurts me more than it hurts you, child.”

Clara refused dinner that night, choosing the solitude of her room. Alice sent a tray outside her door, but Clara left it untouched.

-

“Just a moment.” Thomas called to his hotel room door. He opened the door to find Clara crying at his threshold.

“Thomas!” she collapsed in his arms.

“What is wrong, Clara? Are you hurt?” Thomas ran his hands along her arms.

“My father has forbidden us to see one another!” she sobbed.

“Darling…” Thomas pulled her to him, drawing circles on her back. He soothed her. “… I will go to him. Explain we are in love. He will understand.”

Clara shook her head. “No, he won’t. Once he has made up his mind, there is no changing it. It’s no use.” She gasped for breath, hiccupping through her tears.

Thomas held her chin between his fingers, tilting her face upward so he could see her eyes. “There is always a way. We will be together.” He placed a brief kiss on her lips. Her shoulders relaxed, and she leaned into his embrace.

“Are you sure?”

Thomas smiled and wiped an errant tear from her cheek. “Positive.” He fumbled in his pocket. “Which brings me to an important question. One I hope you will say yes to.” He revealed an ornate ruby ring. Clara gasped and threw her arms around his neck.

-

Thomas led Clara through the hotel lobby arm in arm. Clara’s new ring caught the sunlight streaming through the windows.

“Where is your sister?” she inquired. “I take it she is feeling better.”

“Much. She had some matters to attend to. We are set to leave in three days’ time.” His hand ran across her finger. “But this may have changed things.”

Clara smiled. “I am sure things will fall into place. They usually do.”

Her smile melted away and the corners of her mouth turned downward as she spied Alice, along with a police officer. Alice was crying. Clara rushed to meet her.

“What’s wrong, Alice?” Clara asked.

Thomas joined them, his hands on Clara’s shoulder.

“Your… father… died… in his sleep.” Alice spit out between sobs.

Clara gasped. “Are you sure?” The waterworks started again. She leaned against Thomas for support as her knees gave way.

“I called the doctor straight away when he didn’t wake for breakfast. It appears he just stopped breathing.”

Clara buried her head into Thomas’s shirt. He cradled her like a wounded bird and did not leave her side as the police asked her questions.

-

_Later_

“Tonight is the last night of our voyage.” Clara commented as she readied for bed.

“It is.” Thomas commented. He added the finishing touches to his drawing. “Then we will be home.” He took Clara’s hand and pulled her to his side. She smoothed his unruly curls, only to have them bounce back into place.

“It’s a shame Lucille has been ill the entire voyage. I had hoped to get to know her better.”

“She wanted that as well. But it seems whatever ailed her in Boston has followed her across the ocean.”

“Hopefully, being home will serve her well.”

Clara leaned down to kiss Thomas’s lips. He deepened the kiss for a moment, inhaling all that was his wife. Clara was everything Lucille was not. Caring and attentive. Thomas found himself torn inside between his future and his past. It was a precarious position, and a decision would need to be made. But not tonight.

Thomas twisted Clara’s body to fall upon his lap and he wrapped his arms around her. He held her close. Clara’s hands slipped under the thin fabric of his shirt. She peppered kisses along his neck. His mouth fell open.

“Take me to bed, Thomas.” she pleaded.

Thomas’s eyebrows rose. “Are you sure, darling? We can wait. There’s no rush.” He pushed a tendril of hair off her face.

“I’m sure.”

Thomas swept Clara up into his arms and placed her softly onto the bed. He stood at the foot of the bed and slid his suspenders off his shoulders. His pants slid from his waist to pool around his ankles. The mattress creaked under his weight.

He nudged his shoulders between her legs, lifting her foot. His lips made their way along Clara’s thigh. Her head fell back onto the pillow as Thomas found her core. She moaned, and he chuckled against her.

“Darling.” he cooed. “Lucille will hear you next door.”

“Let her. Let them all hear.” Clara gasped. His hands tangled in his hair.

Thomas continued to lavish attention, Clara grew wetter with each lick and suck. As Thomas noticed her coming close to orgasm, he stopped, earning a whimper from Clara.

“Patience, darling. I was just preparing you.” He popped his head up, his lips glistened with her arousal.

“Preparing me?” Her head tilted to the side. Tom crawled up her body, arching his back as he kissed her breasts. He lined his cock up with her entrance.

“For me.” He pushed into her. Clara was tight around him. She winced at the intrusion. Thomas stilled, his brow knitted in worry.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No. It’s just…” she started, a blush spreading across her cheeks and down her neck. “… I’ve never…”

Thomas kissed her. Her lips soft. “I’ll be gentle.”

Clara nodded and bit her lip to stifle a small yelp as he pushed into her again. He stilled again, allowing her to his size. He kissed her deep. Clara moaned, which was Thomas’s cue to push further. Soon he filled Clara to the hilt, his cock buried deep inside her. He allowed her to adjust to him and only moved when Clara writhed underneath him.

“I need you, Thomas.” she sighed. Clara gripped his hips.

“And you shall have me.” Thomas growled as he snapped hips against her.

“Ooh!” Clara moaned, everything was too much and not enough. She read about sex but nothing prepared for the actual experience of lovemaking.

Tom grunted as he snapped his hips again. Clara soon matched him with the buck of her hips. They moved in sync, each spurring each other closer to release.

“Darling.” Thomas hissed. “I am close.”

She panted and nodded in response. Within a few thrusts, Clara came undone, clenching around Thomas. He soon followed, collapsing on top of her.

As he caught his breath, he rolled off of her, propping himself on his elbow. He grinned as Clara laid breathless, her cheeks flushed in pleasure.

“Can we do that again?” she huffed, excited.

Thomas let loose a hearty laugh. “I believe I have created a monster.” He pulled her on top of him, kissing her. “In the morning. Would you like that?”

She nodded. Thomas kissed her temple. “Now is the time to sleep. We have a long journey yet.”

“Goodnight, Thomas.” Clara settled into the curve of his body. His arm wrapped protectively around her waist.

“Goodnight, Clara.”

-

They made love again the next morning, this time Thomas situated Clara straddling his hips. Clara liked it much better that way.

Lucille didn’t leave her room until they were ready to disembark. Her skin ashen and grey. A thin layer of sweat collected on her brow.

“Dear sister.” Clara rushed to her side. “Lean on me.”

Lucille glared at Thomas who urged her to accept the help. “I’ll fetch the bags.” Thomas hurried ahead.

“Don’t worry. I’ll have you on the mend in no time. This is nothing a good meal and a soft bed won’t fix.” Clara cheerfully replied.

Lucille groaned as her legs cramped when she tried to walk. She leaned against Clara who despite her slight frame, easily supported the weight of the taller woman.

“Trust me.” Clara smiled.

-

Once they reached Allerdale Hall, Thomas settled Lucille in her chambers before giving Clara a tour of the home.

“It’s beautiful, Thomas!” she exclaimed, ignoring the sizable hole in the ceiling and sinking floorboards.

“You are too kind, darling. The place is falling apart before our eyes.” he mused.

Her hand splayed against his chest as she clung to his side. “As long as you are here, it is home to me.” Clara removed her coat and gloves before heading to the kitchen.

“You must be famished. I will cook us supper and then something to settle Lucille’s stomach.” She rolled up her sleeves and grabbed the apron off the hook. Clara opened the stove. “We’ll need some coal, Thomas.”

“I’ll fetch the keys from Lucille.” He turned on his heel to sprint upstairs. He stopped and turned at the threshold. “I don’t deserve you.”

Clara glanced over her shoulder. “It is I who doesn’t deserve you, now shoo.” She waved him off as she gathered the ingredients for a simple supper.

After Thomas and Clara ate, she headed upstairs with a tray ladened with tea and porridge.

“Lucille?” Clara’s voice tentative when she entered the room.

Lucille groaned as she pulled herself to sitting. “Clara?” Her voice hoarse.

“I made you porridge and tea. For your stomach. With extra sugar on the porridge. Just how I used to make it for mother when she fell ill.”

She spied white powder coating the top of the thick porridge.

“Eat up.” She settled the tray on Lucille’s lap. “I come and check on you soon.”

Clara left the room and Lucille’s eyes narrowed as she spied the house keys hanging from Clara’s waist. As the door shut, Lucille fell back on the pillows. She shot up in bed when the door creaked open. Her posture relaxed when Thomas came into view.

“You look ghastly, Lucille.” Thomas rushed to her side. He pressed his lips to her forehead. “You’re feverish.” His brow knitted.

Thomas spied the tray discarded to the side.

“You need to eat.”

Lucille groaned. “She did this.”

“Made you sick?” Thomas chuckled. “Clara? I doubt it. All she talked about over dinner was how worried she was for you.”

“It’s an act, Thomas. And you’re falling for it.” She tugged at his shirt.

“Stop it, Lucille! You are being paranoid.” Thomas pulled away from her.

“I’m not being paranoid! There is something wrong with her!” she pleaded.

“This is the jealousy talking, Lucille. You’re sick. Eat.” he offered the porridge. “Clara made it special for you.”

Lucille pushed the bowl away. “I’m not eating anything she made.”

“I need you to get well so we can complete our plans. You and me.” Thomas’s voice cracked. “I’ll feed it to you.” He offered.

“I’m not a child, Thomas!” she snatched the bowl away.

“We’ll come and check on you after I run Clara a bath.” Thomas smiled as he left her alone in the room.

-

As the days dragged on, Lucille failed to recover. And the multiple visits by Thomas winnowed to twice a day and then just once in the evening before he retired to his room with Clara. He told of the events of the day. How the machine was working and Clara’s money had come in from the lawyers in Boston.

“Such an enormous sum, darling!” Thomas boasted. “We could fix the roof. The house would be whole again. Imagine it, Lucille.”

“I grow tired of these tedious talks, Thomas. They bore me.” Lucille groused and grumbled.

“I only want you to be part of our family, Lucille. To share in our triumphs. But if I make you tiresome, I can have Clara stop by—”

“KEEP HER AWAY FROM ME! she bellowed. “Once I am well, I will take care of her. I will make her pay for what she’s done to me!” Her hand reached for Thomas’s face, shaking for the exertion. “For taking you away from me.” Her voice cracked in anguish and torture.

Thomas kissed the palm of her hand. “That is the illness talking, love. I will call for the doctor to come tomorrow. You will get well.”

Lucille collapsed into the bed in exhaustion. She could barely make it to the bathroom these days to empty the day’s food from her stomach, assuming she ate that day. Her lean frame grew gaunt. Her bright eyes now dull and her hands, which once played the piano effortlessly, now shook to lift a cup to her lips.

He grabbed the tray from the bed. “You didn’t eat much again. You need your strength, Lucille.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Rest. It will be better in the morning.” Thomas commented, give her a chaste kiss one last time.

Lucille caught sleep in fitful patches. The sheets soaked as her fever broke only to have her sweating hours later. Her body ached, and every movement was a monumental task as her muscles screamed from the slightest exertion.

It was dark when her eyes snapped open to the sound of the door creaking open.

“Thomas?” she called out into the dark.

A lamp illuminated a small delicate face with hazel blue eyes. “It’s me, Lucille. Clara.”

“What are you doing here?” she spat.

“I came to check on you.”

“You came to see if I have died yet.”

Clara chuckled. “Of course not. You haven’t been eating the last few days. I was worried.” In that moment Lucille believed she was wrong about Clara. She believed she was sick. “Worried that you detected the arsenic in the porridge.”

Lucille’s eyes widened. Clara lunged at her. Lucille was too weak to fight her off.

“Why?” Lucille whispered. Clara pushed her into the mattress.

“At first, it was because I didn’t like you. The way you looked at Thomas.” Clara leaned all her weight against Lucille, who had little choice but to lie in the bed. “My Thomas.”

“At first?” Lucille struggled but succeeded in only working droplets of sweat on her brow and nausea in her belly.

“Well, after I took care of Papa, I found the papers on his desk. The skeletons in the closet. It doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots and realize you and Thomas were more than just a doting brother and sister. I can’t have my Thomas with another, most of all his sister. He is mine!”

“You’re a monster!” Lucille hissed.

“And so are you. Your mother, those women. It seems Thomas has a type.” Clara chuckled darkly.

“You’ll never get away with it! Thomas will never believe you. He loves me!”

“He loves me more. The poor orphaned girl. The wounded bird saved by the dashing gentleman. No one would suspect that little Clara Appleton could kill anyone. Not you, not her father… not her mother.”

Lucille mustered all her strength and sat up. She lurched at Clara, scratching at her. Clara slapped Lucille across the cheek, sending her flying back onto the pillows.

“You can’t do this!” Lucille pleaded.

“But I can and I will. It will look like you died after a mysterious illness. And I get Thomas.” Clara lifted Lucille’s head to grab the pillow. She spun it in her hands, contemplating, thinking.

“This hurts me more than hurts you.”

Clara responded coldly as she pushed the pillow over Lucille’s head. She pressed hard until Lucille’s body stilled. She removed the pillow and lifted Lucille’s head to replace it in its appointed place.

“I always get what I want in the end.” Clara turned and shut the door to join Thomas in their bedroom with a smile on her face. The tears would wait until morning.


End file.
